


Better late than never

by somanyhands



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Jimstrade, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Probably rather PWP, Riding Crop, daddy!lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyhands/pseuds/somanyhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg placed his half-empty beer bottle on the table and circled Jim. He looked incredible. This strong, powerful, beautiful man, knelt before him in </p><p>It's just a one-shot fic; more of an experiment in Jimstrade (an often-ignored pairing) and will probably be pretty much PWP!</p><p>Give it a go anyway. See what you think :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Greg glanced up at the mantel clock for what seemed like the thousandth time that evening.  
6.40pm and he was getting impatient.   
He hated to be kept waiting, and he hated tardiness even more.   
He sat at the table, drumming his fingers against the hard wood and frowning, until he decided enough was enough and stood and walked into the kitchen to fetch another beer.

As he pulled the cold bottle from the fridge and levered off the top, the doorbell rang.

"About bloody time too." he muttered under his breath, crossing to the front door and opening it with a scowl.

"You're forty fucking minutes late." he barked, walking away from the open door without inviting the visitor in. He would come in anyway, but he would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would have to pay for making Greg wait.

"Sorry." Jim mumbled, closing the door behind him and following Greg to the living room, "Traffic was hellish, and it took ages to get a taxi..."

The glare Greg shot in his direction stopped Jim dead in his tracks and told him to shut up. This was not a time for excuses. Jim nodded and lowered his head submissively. 

Without speaking, he efficiently removed his clothing, stripping down to just his pants, and dropped to his knees in the middle of the living room. Once he had settled himself there, sitting on his feet but with his back straight, he held out his arms, palms up, and waited.

Greg placed his half-empty beer bottle on the table and circled Jim. He looked incredible. This strong, powerful, beautiful man, knelt before him in complete submission. 

The detective thought back to the early days.

When Jim Moriarty had first come to Greg's flat, the detective had been instantly on high alert. He knew who the 'consulting criminal' was, of course, but he had never expected the man to appear at his door, head bent low and practically begging for Greg's firm hand.  
Greg, being logically suspicious, had at first dismissed the man, but as he lifted Jim's chin with a firm grip of his hand, one look in his eyes had showed him that Jim needed him. 

Seeing him there now, small; lost; needy; repentant, Greg felt his cock stirring in his pants. He retrieved the small holdall from next to the sofa and removed a length of rope. 

Despite not looking up, Jim smiled and let out a soft sigh of relief. He knew what was coming. He knew the drill. He watched feet and then legs come into view before him and felt his pulse quicken as the detective wrapped the rope around his wrists, doing a figure of eight a couple of times before finishing with a firm knot. He then guided Jim to drop his hands onto his knees.

Greg nodded at his handiwork and threaded his fingers in the young man's hair, yanking his head back roughly, forcing Jim to look at him.   
"You'll have to be punished for being late, of course." he stated matter of factly. Jim felt tears prick at his eyes as the grip tightened in his hair, pulling at the delicate strands. 

"I know." he answered, swallowing back a lump in his throat. He couldn't show his weakness. Not now. Not yet.  
The fingers tightened further, and Greg growled, lowering his face to within a couple of inches of Jim's. "What?!" he hissed, noticing the redness welling up in those dark eyes as he wrenched the head sideways.   
"Do you want me to punish you, boy?" he spat, letting the head drop and watching Jim falter for a moment as he composed himself before answering.

"Yes please, Daddy."

Greg nodded. "That's better, boy." he said, and he started rummaging in the bag again, pulling out various items and placing them onto a side table.  
Jim fought to even out his breathing as anticipation and arousal threatened to overcome him. He found himself wondering what Greg would do first. He sensed that Greg had his back to him so he briefly risked raising his head to look at the man. He lifted it just enough to be able to peer out from beneath dark lashes and for a moment, just watched the older man. He smiled as he watched his silver-haired detective pass from the table into the kitchen and return with a jug of water and two glasses.   
Placing the items down on the table, Greg stopped still, hands frozen on the jug. Jim quickly dropped his head again.

"Did I give you permission to watch me?" the detective slowly uncurled his fingers from the glass handle and turned around to face Jim. "I asked you a question, boy." he snarled.

Jim swallowed hard in an effort to control his emotions. He didn't want his voice to crack when he replied. Daddy didn't like it when he sounded weak and pathetic. 

"No, Daddy", he replied, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I'm sorry, Daddy."

Greg shook his head and approached the trembling form. He stood close to Jim and slowly stroked his hand through the boy's hair, pressing the head to rest against Greg's leg. 

"My beautiful boy." he purred, guiding Jim's face to his groin. Jim groaned as he felt the hardness beneath the detective's clothing. "Such a needy baby." Greg smiled, "but you'll have to wait. First, you've been a naughty boy."  
He roughly removed the boy from his body and, grabbing a handful of hair, pulled him to standing and across to the sofa.   
Greg sat down and manhandled Jim to stand in front of him. He had to stifle a groan himself as he came almost face-to-face with the younger man's erection that strained in his pants. Fortunately, Jim's lowered eyes didn't see the expression on Greg's face as he slid his thumbs into those pants and lowered them to the floor.   
"Step out." he instructed, throwing the abandoned underwear towards the rest of Jim's clothing. 

As soon as Jim was completely naked, Greg grabbed his arms and slung the boy face down, over his knees. Jim shuffled a little to get some kind of balance, and he felt a firm hand on the small of his back.

"Stop!" Greg commanded. It was almost under his breath, but it certainly carried enough weight to still Jim instantly. He could feel his cock pressed against the fabric of Greg's trousers, and it took every ounce of his self control to stop himself from rutting up against the detective.  
He felt the body beneath him shift as Greg leaned sideways and retrieved something from the side table.  
As Greg straightened up again, Jim felt a hand stroke down his back and across his buttocks. He sighed and relaxed his whole body into the warm touch. The calm before the storm. As the hand left his flesh, Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

He was ready.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg smoothed his hand across the expanse of pale flesh that was lying across his lap. It looked so soft; so perfect. He couldn't wait to fix that.

Greg smoothed his hand across the expanse of pale flesh that was lying across his lap. It looked so soft; so perfect. He couldn't wait to fix that.

He curled his fingers around the handle of the riding crop and briefly closed his eyes to calm himself. His breathing had become slightly erratic, and he really didn't want to betray himself to Jim. He needed complete control. Control of himself and control of his boy.

"Right", he began, his voice confident and unwavering, "you will count. I think twenty should do for now. It might have only been ten, if you were just being punished for being late, but you weren't just late, you also keep forgetting your place. You will learn, OK, boy?" Greg slid a hand up to Jim's head and turned it slightly to face him, awaiting a response.  
Jim looked up at Greg with a look of pure arousal and need. 

"Yes, Daddy." he whispered.

Greg nodded. "Right, count."

He took a deep grounding breath and decided to start with a lighter touch. He had to get through twenty of these, and he didn't want to do too much damage too soon.  
Greg lifted the crop just a small distance, 12 inches or so, and brought it down on the flawless flesh of one of Jim's buttocks.  
A small twitch and a groan came from the man laid across his legs and he clenched his bound hands above his head.

"I'm waiting, boy." Greg warned, his clipped tone making Jim jump slightly before he replied in almost a squeak, "One."  
Jim squirmed slightly on Greg's knees, hissing as his hard cock brushed against the detective's legs. Greg chose not to call him on it this time, but a firm hand on the boy's back stilled him instantly.

The detective raised the crop again, this time a little higher, and brought it down with a barely audible crack on the other cheek of Jim's perfect round arse.

"Two." Jim counted calmly, biting down on his bottom lip to silence a sob that threatened. He needed to hold himself together for another 18 strokes, but he knew he could do this. He would take his punishment like a good boy, and then Daddy would reward him.

As the crop unexpectedly came down a third time, this time much harder at the small of his back, Jim started and let out a small whimper. He only just remembered to count. "Three."

The fourth stroke came equally quickly, laying a crimson red stripe along the top of a pale thigh. As Jim jumped at the touch, the resulting friction on his cock elicited a long groaned, "Four."

Greg smiled and shifted slightly. His own erection was started to throb, and it felt unbearably tight in his pants. He made a conscious decision to speed up the pace slightly, laying down "Five", "Six" and "Seven" in quick succession in a criss-cross pattern on Jim's back and the second thigh.  
He took a short moment to admire the emerging pattern of red on white before adding "Eight" and "Nine" across each calf.

As "Ten" fell with a solid tap to the underside of Jim's balls, the boy let out a long, loud moan and thrust himself against the detective's lap. Greg chuckled, "How are you going to make it to twenty, my boy?"  
Jim almost answered before deciding that the question was rhetorical, responding only with a confident "Eleven" as the following blow landed between his arse cheeks, tauntingly close to his sensitive hole.

He hoped he could make it to twenty. He was already dangerously close to coming, but he knew very well that he could not do that without permission, and that permission would not come yet.

Greg recognised the boy's distress and let out another laugh, followed by three stern words of warning. "Don't you dare." 

Jim nodded. He knew.

Greg tilted his head as he decided where to place the next one, finally deciding to cross the first two buttock blows with "Twelve" and "Thirteen".   
At this point, he himself had to take a short break as he first readjusted his trapped cock in his trousers and then, with a low growl, undid his trousers and pushed them down with his pants, freeing his erection and giving it a firm pump with his hand.

"God, boy." he began, turning Jim's head once more to face him and lowering it so his boy could see his cock, "See what you do to me? See how fucking hard I am for you?"

Jim's eyes said more than he words ever could. Blown pupils and full-on desire telling an epic tale of desperate need. Greg tightened his fingers around his pulsing cock and gave it one last stroke before turning Jim's head back again and raising the crop.

"Fourteen" came down  on the sensitive perineal flesh between balls and arsehole, and Greg felt Jim's breath coming harder and faster as he continued to fight back his orgasm.

"Fifteen" fell in the same place, and Greg closed his eyes against the sensations that he himself could feel building. He clamped his fingers around the base of his cock, delaying the release as he returned to the crop and his boy.

"Just five more." Greg leaned down and whispered against Jim's ear. "Just five more and then you can come, my boy."  
Jim groaned with a mixture of arousal and frustration. Feeling the hot breath of his Daddy against his ear had just ramped the erotic effect ten-fold.

Having regained control of himself, Greg laid the next strokes down in quick succession again, with "Sixteen" and "Seventeen" falling on tender pink thighs and "Eighteen" laying across both buttocks together.

Jim let out a sound that was part-hiss, part-moan as the fire built on his fragile skin. He was starting to feel every tiny burst vessel, every millimetre of red, every bead of blood that had risen close to the surface of his usually-perfect flesh, and a million tiny nerve ending both sang and cried in unison. 

Both men were panting hard, and Greg began to wonder whether he himself could hold on for two more.

"You will come on twenty. Understand, boy?"

Jim swallowed, thankful that twenty was close now, because dear god, so was he.   
"Yes, Daddy." he replied timidly. Not long now.

"Nineteen" he gasped as it dropped between shoulder blades, and Greg took a moment to carefully brush his fingers over the lattice of scarlet. 

Pressure started to build in his balls, and he closed his hand back around the throbbing flesh of his own cock, slicking his thumb across the pre-cum gathered at the tip. The moan that escaped his mouth was both dirty and uninhibited as he growled out "Ready, boy?" and landed "Twenty" with a long, hard stroke straight down on his boy's arse.  
He twisted his wrist up along his erection and let out a guttural cry as he came over Jim's back, leaving long streaks of cum mixed with the crimson stripes.

As the final stroke landed, and Jim felt Greg's warm release spread across his sensitive flesh, he thrust himself against the clothed legs beneath him and came with a long grunt and a desperate chant of "Thank you, Daddy... Thank you, thank you... Daddy..."

Neither man moved as they both took a long moment to come down from their orgasms. Jim felt his back start to tighten, and Greg leaned down, turning Jim's head to speak to him.

"You OK?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern as he watched the boy's back darken with every passing second.

Jim just smiled and nodded, his eyes lidded in a post-orgasmic haze.

Being late had definitely been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?
> 
> I actually quite enjoy writing these two in this way. Daddy!Lestrade and Sub!Jim are kinda hot together!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments welcome, of course!


End file.
